Mandy

By Anna Nihil

Glide silently through the shadowy streets of NihilVille, where you will encounter Mandy, a beautiful, sweet, and solitary girl, and John, a mysterious and enigmatic man.

NihilVille is no ordinary city; it is a nightmare, a culmination of the world's horrors and its darkest fantasies. For souls seeking redemption, emerging from the darkness of such a ruthless reality will not be an easy endeavor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Nov 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9781667465920

Book preview

Anna Nihil

Mandy

Translated by Cristina García

MANDY

This book is a work of fiction. Characters and places mentioned are inventions of the author and are intended to lend credibility to the narrative. Any resemblance to events, places, or persons, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.

© 2007 Anna Nihil

Cover Canva

Dedicated

To those who are bravely trying

to get out of their troubles.

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1

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It’s cold. The streets are still damp from the rain, with water pooling in puddles that ripple with every gust of wind. Perhaps it will rain again; the thunder rumbles persistently, and the occasional drop falls from the sky. At this hour, the clouds are indistinguishable, shrouded in the dark cloak of night. Deep darkness clings to the troubled souls wandering the streets at this late hour, searching for something.

Mandy walks confidently along the side-walk, although her demeanor reflects resignation more than confidence. Her world is con-fined to her neighborhood, and it’s not a ple-asant place.

In every city, without exception, there is a division, always present, between the so-cal-led good neighborhood and the scum area.

In the so-called good part of the city, people react strongly to evil, believe in dreams, and desire the well-being of their fellow citizens. They often organize parties, fairs, concerts, charity auctions to raise funds and save some remote corner of the world with an exotic and unpronounceable name. They are charitable beings, but their generosity rarely extends beyond their immediate surroundings. They remain oblivious to the decay in the other part of their own city, yet they can notice distant poverty. It’s peculiar.

The issue is that the residents of the good areas tend to follow trends and be easily influenced by them. Helping fellow citizens is not considered in or chic enough.

Their generosity is more of a necessary act than a spontaneous one. It’s a means to enter the right social clubs, feel like part of society, and create noble deeds to mitigate any past wrongs, just in case they need it. Many of them earn so much that their bank accounts overflow. To reduce their taxes, one of the most suitable options suggested by their accountants, coincidentally, is to donate part of their wealth to charity.

They may console themselves by thinking, It’s better than nothing. However, despite the substantial amounts sent to distant countries—enough to build two schools and three hospitals, as humanitarian organizations pro-mise—nothing changes significantly. The pe-ople in those faraway places remain impoverished and dependent on the well-off.

If nothing changes in distant lands, they can always attribute the responsibility to the poor governance of those places. But how do they justify that in their own city, even though the government is the same, one part thrives while the other struggles to survive? Is it the fault of the good people and their hypocritical generosity, or is it the residents of the scum area who, for some strange reason, don’t allow themselves to be helped? None of them seem to be committed enough to truly eliminate the evil.

Many have given up, while others tacitly allow things to remain as they are for convenience.

The lighting is poor; they’ve stopped spen-ding money on repairing the street lamps. They were systematically vandalized with stones just minutes after being fixed. Drug dealers and exploiters need the cover of dar-kness to conduct their operations.

The good people often take part in these illicit activities as well. When they seek forbidden pleasures, they come to the scum neighborhood. It’s convenient because their identity remains hidden, and they’re unlikely to encounter someone they know. They can do whatever they want, the worst of things, under the cover of darkness. They see the scum area as an adventure, a dumping gro-und to find what they need and then leave to rot. Their superficial approach to the neigh-borhood often leads to a bad end. Too many of the good children die in this neighborhood, believing they hold the reins of power, but it’s just an illusion. On the other hand, I’m not sure how much comfort it provides after they’ve gambled away their only chance at life. On TV, they always speak highly of them. Losing one of them leaves a mark. However, those born and raised in the scum area are entirely ignored. They’re considered routine deaths because they occur too frequently, and they lack relatives ready to appear on TV to clean up their reputation, as is the case with the good people, who, despite being caught with their nose in cocaine or in compromising situations, are still seen as good kids.

Mandy needs to reach the end of the sidewalk; it’s her spot.

Look who’s here! exclaims a gruff and vulgar older prostitute as she notices Mandy approaching. The others join in, laughing raucously.

Why has the Princess descended among us? inquires another, making a mock bow.

Maybe she angered her boss suggests a straw-blond, thin as a twig.

I wish I belonged to Stan. He’s so hot! says another with a generous figure and red lips.

He knows how to make his girls earn! asserts the old woman who started the teasing.

Hey, Princess, what brings you here, then?

Mandy doesn’t respond; she has nothing to share with them. The others are right; she shouldn’t be there.

She is beautiful and young, with a sensual and graceful appearance. She wears revealing clothes like the others, but hers aren’t market bargains or tatters salvaged from used clothes bins. Her hair is beautiful and well-cared-for; her face resembles that of a porcelain doll with two sweet and deep green eyes. She’s a precious commodity.

The old woman and Mandy lock eyes for a moment. The old woman is not particularly cultured or sensitive, but she manages to offer a somewhat accurate interpretation of Mandy’s character, saying, Let it go, she’s not mean; she’s just... shy. She promptly stops the red-haired woman by grabbing her arm.

Shy?! Come on! the others murmur and chuckle. Not getting a reaction from Mandy in the face of their provocations, they return to their routine.

A car approaches, the driver slows down, a potential customer. All of them make their best efforts to grab his attention, except for Mandy. He’s driving slowly, looking around, observing carefully to the right and left, and then he focuses on Mandy, who has no intention of approaching.

The voluptuous prostitute with red lips takes advantage of the situation. Without wasting any time, she dives into the car and explains to the customer, "Hey, handsome, you got it wrong!